


777

by arukana



Series: put your money where your mouth is [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Gambling, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-13 13:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arukana/pseuds/arukana
Summary: Goro and Ren spend a drunken night in Las Vegas. Ren wants to do something stupid, and what else is there to do in Vegas besides get married?
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: put your money where your mouth is [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557388
Comments: 50
Kudos: 266





	1. a proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cosmicpoet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/gifts).

> happy birthday kit!!! <3

_ Ding-ding-ding! _

“Wow,” Goro says, as the three bells cause the machine to flash wildly and spew coins into the slot below.

Ren just winks at him, “Told you I was good at these.”

“And I told you can’t be _ good _at a slot machine. It’s entirely luck based.”

“Then I’m just lucky,” and he flashes him Goro’s favourite smile, the one that’s all goofy teeth and tongue with his brows raised. Goro looks away, biting at his fingernails to try and take his mind off the violent butterflies making a racket in his stomach.

He should’ve never agreed to come on this trip to Vegas.

It’s been a hazard to his health, to see Ren all drunk and giddy, fuelled by dopamine and booze. He’s too touchy like this, like now while he’s leaning down to collect his prize money with his hand on Goro’s thigh. He should’ve known Ann was planning this when she invited him; to leave them alone half the time, just to torture Goro with his stupid crush.

“If you were really lucky, you would’ve gotten the jackpot.”

Ren snorts, “Is that a challenge?”

Grinning, Goro shrugs, “If you would like to throw away all the money you just won, be my guest.”

“Well,” Ren purses his lips, tapping on them with his index finger, “usually I’d love to take you up on that offer.”

“But?” he asks, trying desperately to ignore how the look Ren gives him makes his heart skip a beat.

“I think I should just buy the next round instead.”

Goro laughs at him and takes his glass from the table, still half full of whatever cocktail the server was giving out. He presses it to his lips, “I’m surprised you can even order.”

“What? ‘Cause of how youthful I look? I brought my passport.”

He scoffs, “No, because your English is terrible.”

“My English is _ passable _,” he scowls, narrowing his eyes, “Ms Chouno said so.”

“And how many years ago was that?” he questions, raising a brow innocently and sipping his drink.

“A few.”

“And you’ve used it how many times since then?”

“Everyday.”

“Using it to swear in front of Morgana doesn’t count.”

Ren grins at him, rubbing at the nape of his neck, “Then I guess I haven’t used it at all.”

It’s cute. He’s cute… Fuck. Stop it, Goro. He coughs to hide his smile.

“Actually, I’ve made Ann talk to everyone here for me so far. Speaking of, where did everyone else go?”

Goro turns to search the room. It’s just rows upon rows of slot machines with a few poker, blackjack and roulette tables in the middle, big and loud and bright like any of the casinos they’ve been in before, like- No. There’s a grandness in it, Goro’s seen it in all of Vegas so far, something that screams _ here, there’s no such thing as a bad idea. _He must say the promise has held true thus far.

The rest of their friends, though, are nowhere to be seen among the vast crowd. Usually, they can still at least hear Ryuji drunkenly cheering or booing depending on how he’s doing with his gambling, but all Goro can hear now is the general rumble of chatter, a few dinging slot machines, a couple of cheering patrons.

“I’m not sure. To the bar, perhaps?”

Ren turns to him, almost scandalized, “You’re just trying to get me to make good on my offer to buy the next round.”

“It’s not like you don’t have the money for it.”

He gets up, shaking his hips to make the change in his pockets jingle, “Yeah, I’m sure the bartender will _ love _being paid in- what are these? Quarters?” he takes one out of his pocket to inspect it under the light of the chandelier, scrunching up his nose.

“You can exchange them, I believe.”

“Pft. And miss the look on the guy’s face when I slam a bunch of these babies down on the bar?”

“You just said-”

“I think not, Goro. I think not,” he grabs Goro’s hand, pulling him off his seat and nearly making him spill the rest of his drink in the process, and starts dragging him over to the bar.

Goro doesn’t even fight it. When they’d first become friends, _ real _friends, not the faux friendship-rival line they used to straddle, he would try to dig his heels in until Ren gave up, but lately he finds that it’s easier to just go along with it.

And Ren’s hand might feel really nice in his.

It’s so stupid, the city makes him feel like he could do anything. Stupid because he knows that’s all part of the ruse, a ploy to get you to exchange your money for a hit of dopamine. Stupid because it’s no different than Tokyo really, he’s already acclimatised to bustle and noise and lights. Stupid because if he kissed Ren right now it would ruin everything, stupid because he still wants to.

Goro squeezes his hand and Ren squeezes back, throwing him a grin over his shoulder. Goro waits until he’s turned back around to give him a smile of his own, soft and small. Just for a minute, even if they’re surrounded by foreign Vegas crowds, it’s just them and them alone. Maybe he’ll let himself be stupid for once.

After he has enough drinks, of course.

Downing the rest of his current drink, he places the glass on somebody else’s table as they pass by. He lets Ren pull him closer as they push their way to the front of the bar. “Hm, guess they’re not here. What do you want?”

_ “Water,” _ says the little voice in his head. _ “Fuck off,” _ he replies.

“Do you want to do shots?”

Ren jolts slightly back, incredulous, “Shots? You want to do shots with me?”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Not really. Just expected you to ask for something fruity and complicated with a little umbrella, like whatever you were drinking a minute ago. What was that, by the way?”

Goro shrugs, “I’m not sure. It was free, so I just-”

“_ They do free drinks here _?” Ren’s eyes nearly bug out of his skull, freezing with his hands in his pockets, trying to grab his change.

“Yes, it’s an unscrupulous Vegas thing. So you get drunk and lose more money gambling. You haven’t had any?”

“No, nobody told me. Why am I paying if they’re just giving out drinks back there?”

“You offered,” Goro shrugs, “and now I want to do shots.”

Ren rolls his eyes and sighs, “Fine. But if we see Futaba I did not win any money and we got wasted off of free cocktails.”

“But of course.”

He gets a laugh at his severe expression from Ren, before he turns to flag down the bartender. “What’ll you have?” she says, in the middle of pouring a glass for somebody else.

“Hello,” it’s as far as he gets before he starts stumbling over his own broken English. It’s funny, for a minute, watching him _ eeto _ and _ anou _at the woman who clearly doesn’t get paid enough to do this. Goro takes pity on him, rolling his eyes as he takes over and orders whatever shots are the cheapest as Ren pushes the pile of quarters at her. “Thank you.”

“I told you your English was terrible.”

“I really thought it wasn’t that bad,” Goro has to laugh at him, at least a little, he looks so petrified. “I couldn’t remember the word order.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just, next time, ensure you don’t stray too far from Ann.”

Ren beams as the bartender brings them several shots at once, a few each. “It’s okay, I’ve got _ you _.”

Their hands brush as Goro accepts one of the glasses from Ren. He’s warm, skin calloused and dry and full of burns because no matter how many years pass he still never learns that coffee’s hot, and spilling it on yourself hurts. It’d be so easy to take his hand in his own and hang on for dear life.

Goro quickly pulls away and downs the thing.

He needs to change the subject. Now, while he’s still at least a little sober. “I hate places like this.”

Oh, _ fuck _. Wrong subject.

“What?” he asks, downing his own drink and cringing at the taste.

“Um,” Goro doesn’t waste any time, immediately going for another shot, “casinos.”

“Me neither. I prefer arcades,” he can feel Ren dancing around saying something. It’s in the way he won’t look at him anymore, to preoccupied with tapping his fingers against the wood of the bar. It’s alright. Goro understands. “What, uh, what’s in these?”

“Oh,” and _ thank Christ _one of them has the social skills necessary to facilitate normal person conversation, “I don’t know, it’s not like she gave me a menu.”

“A menu? We’re at a bar, Goro.”

“You know what I mean. You were paying in _ change _, so I just ordered whatever was cheapest.”

To be honest, they are quite horrible as shots go, maybe there should have been more consideration on his part. Though, as a general rule, the more disgusting a drink is, the quicker he gets drunk; maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Goro can already feel the sensation swimming up to his head, dizzy and hot.

Ren cringes again, face shrivelling in disgust as he swallows another shot, “Maybe I do need Ann as a translator.”

“I was trying to be considerate of others.”

“Oh, stepping out of your comfort zone, are we?”

“Fuck off?”

“Testy.” Goro just glares him, stealing one of shots and downing it, “Hey! That’s mine!”

“Not anymore,” he sighs as he swallows, smacking his lips just to be annoying.

Ren scowls playfully, “What happened to being considerate?”

“Not to you.”

“Cause I’m special?” he asks, putting his elbows on the bar and his chin in his hands.

Goro flicks him on the nose, “Because you already know I’m not.”

He rubs the pain on his nose away, fingers running up his skin and knocking his glasses slanted, “Ow. I know no such thing.”

“Then you’ve been painfully unobservant the past few years.”

“Well,” he grins, “that just makes two of us, doesn’t it?”

He gives Ren a look, brow furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ren just taps his nose twice. “Is getting drunk a bad idea?”

It’s not exactly subtle, his subject change. Goro wants to call him out on it, but maybe he just straight up doesn’t want to know what he was talking about. Knowing Ren, it was probably just a bad joke at his expense. “No, getting drunk is usually one of my better ideas, honestly.”

Ren scoffs, “I _ mean _, shouldn’t we be looking for our friends?”

“There’s like,” Goro waves a hand nonchalantly, “twenty of them. They’ll be fine.”

“Six, Goro, there’s six of them.”

He stares at the single shot he has left in confusion, like it might suddenly start speaking to him. Wow, those shots have gone to his head embarrassingly quickly. “I could’ve sworn you had more than six friends.”

“_ We _, we have more than six friends.”

“Our friends. Right.” It’s not really a concept that’s gotten any easier as the years have gone by. Having one friend is overwhelming by itself, but six? Unfathomable. Especially with Futaba and Haru, but he’s honestly okay with that if they are, so maybe he has four friends. Though, thinking about it, Ryuji’s never really liked him much either, and Makoto definitely still has a little bit of a grudge. Perhaps just Ann and Yusuke then. He thinks he can live with that.

Oh, and Ren. Three friends.

“So, are you gonna drink that last shot? Because you kind of owe me one-”

He downs it before Ren can even finish asking, flashing him one of his TV smiles when he’s done. “My apologies, I appear to have drank it.”

“You’re a dick,” he says, but there’s no malice in it, just a wry smile as he downs his own final shot.

“More shots?”

“Yeah. Order something better this time, and then, Akechi Goro,” he says, leaning in close and jabbing a finger in his face, “I’m gonna prove to you that I’m amazing at slot machines.”

“_ Sure _.”

“You wanna make it a bet?”

“What did you have in mind?” he asks, narrowing his gaze.

Ren’s smile widens, “If I don’t win the jackpot, you can make me do whatever embarrassing thing you can think of.”

“And if you do win the jackpot?”

“You have to spend the rest of this trip wearing an _ I heart Las Vegas _t-shirt.”

Goro throws his head back, laughing, “You’re fucking on.”

* * *

And that is the story of how Akechi Goro ends up stumbling back to the hotel wearing said t-shirt at midnight, accompanied by one Amamiya Ren, who is 5k richer than he was a few hours ago.

“I told you I was good at slot machines.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, pressing the elevator call button repeatedly as if that will make it arrive faster.

“You should be grateful I didn’t make you buy your own shirt. I’m like your sugar daddy now.”

“_ Shut up _. I can’t fucking believe you actually won.”

The elevator arrives, dinging as the doors open. Ren laughs as they both step inside and Goro fights the urge to close the doors before he can get in, “I _ told _you. Which floor’s yours?”

Ignoring him, Goro leans over himself to press for the fifth floor. There’s a moment where he considers pressing all the buttons like a child, but he really doesn’t want to spend anymore time in this elevator than absolutely necessary. Plus, more stops makes it more likely for somebody else to come in and see him like this.

“Me and Ryuji are on the sixteenth floor. You should come see the view.”

“I’ve already pressed the button.”

“Come ooooon,” Ren groans, shaking Goro’s shoulder, “I’ll order room service.”

Goro snorts, “You shouldn’t spend it all in one place, you know.”

“You weren’t saying that when you made me tip our server $50.”

“We had a lot of free drinks. It’s customary.”

“I didn’t see you coughing up the cash.”

“I’m pretty. Pretty boys never pay,” Goro shrugs, earning himself a chortle from Ren.

“What am I? Chopped liver?”

“Ugly,” he snorts, laughing at Ren’s faux-wounded expression.

The doors open, but Goro doesn’t make any move to get out.

“This is your floor,” Ren reminds him.

“Trying to back out of your offer already, Amamiya?” he asks, pressing the button to close the door. Ren beams at him drunkenly, all teeth and tongue.

Goro finds himself smiling back.

They make their way to Ren’s room, exchanging stupid jokes and laughter like they have been all night. It gives him a pleasant feeling that he can’t write off on just the alcohol. Something so uniquely _ Ren _, the type of joy only he provides. Goro can’t stop thinking about it as he watches Ren slide the keycard in the slot, holding the door open for him.

The room’s like Goro’s but wider. It’s a cramped corridor with storage space and an en-suite leading into an open rectangular space. Like Goro’s room, it has a table and chairs in the corner, and a TV attached to the wall. The only real difference is the fact that this room has two single beds instead of one double. Standard cut-and-paste hotel room decor; off-white, thick curtains, ugly flower painting, tray full of milk shots. Goro hates it.

“What do you want?” Ren asks, flopping down onto his bed.

He shrugs, taking a seat in one of the chairs by the table, twisting it backwards to look at Ren, “Whatever you’re having, I suppose.”

Ren picks up the phone from the bedside table, “Well, I’m going to have a double cheeseburger. Maybe some fries. So what do you want?”

“A double cheeseburger,” he nods slowly, thinking maybe he’s being misunderstood.

“For real?”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No. I just thought you’d want like… expensive lobster. With baked alaska on the side.”

“Mm,” Goro considers it, but ultimately shakes his head, pulling his knees up to his chest, “maybe you could get some dessert?”

“Pancakes?” Ren asks, biting his tongue to stifle his laughter.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Picking up the menu from beside the phone, Ren purses his lips as he reads, “Hm. We could split a sundae?”

“_ Split _? You just won at slots.”

“And you told me I shouldn’t spend it all in one place.”

“Changed my mind,” he shrugs. “Get some champagne too.”

Ren scoffs a laugh, “That’s my Goro.”

“Shut up,” he says, trying to hide the way he grins back behind his knees.

“Cute,” he says, dialling the phone.

It’s the drink. Ren’s a flirty drunk and that’s it. He knows that. It doesn’t mean anything, it can’t. Goro’s not good for Ren. For anyone really. 

But selfishness has already made itself at home in the pit of his stomach, the want and desire: beautiful yet grotesque, and Ren’s encouraging it, feeding it what it craves. Giving it hope of a mutual love that he can never seem to snuff out, or else he would’ve stopped dangling it in front of himself like Ren’s the carrot and he’s both the pig and the stick. It hurts, of course it hurts, but the hope keeps him coming back. Uncountable amounts of _ maybe this time _ , and _ try again next time _.

He should say something.

...

But, not now. When the room service arrives. Then he’ll say something.

He gets up, only wobbling a little on his feet, and walks to the window. It covers most of the outer wall, allowing anyone to see inside from the ground. “You should really close the curtains before you,” he hiccups, “before you leave.”

“What for?”

“Privacy. And so you don’t get burgled.”

Ren laughs, rolling off the bed to join him, “It’s not like we have anything worth stealing, _ Mister Detective _.”

“Shut up,” he groans, shoving him lightly, “you know I hate that.”

Pouting, Ren leans his forehead against the glass, “I think it’s funny.”

Goro watches him for a minute, how his breath fogs up against the cool surface. His eyes scream enamoured, like he’s seeing something out there that Goro doesn’t- can’t. The green monster living in his throat makes itself known. Goro wants Ren to look at him like that.

He shifts his gaze to the view.

“It’s strange.”

“Hm?” Goro replies, not daring to glance back at him.

“Everything looks so small from up here.”

“Oh. Not really. It’s simple logic.”

“I mean, it just reminds you of how insignificant we are.”

Goro _ does _ look at him at that, unconvinced, “You were literally the most wanted man in Japan for, what? Nearly a year? You saved an entire country from terrible corruption and war and-”

“If you say I saved it from _ you _I’m going to scream.”

He bristles, “It’s not untrue.”

“Maybe. But I hate hearing it,” he gives Goro a look, one that says: _ and I know you do too _. “I didn’t mean it like that, anyway. I meant, in the grand scheme of the universe.”

“Hm. That’s a nice way of looking at things.”

“Is it? I was going for more… existential dread.”

Goro just shrugs, “If nothing matters then nothing I did matters.”

Ren sighs exasperatedly, grabbing Goro’s hand to make him join Ren back in bed, “It’s so hard to have deep conversations with you. You always make them a guilt-fest.”

He pulls Goro down across his shins, lying perpendicular on his bed, “Isn’t that what I deserve?”

“No.”

Goro snorts, “No elaboration this time? You’re usually halfway through your anti-Shido rant by now.”

“Too drunk. You already know all my talking points, anyway.”

He does, admittedly. He knows Ren can go for hours about how much he hates Shido. He knows the whole spiel by now; how Goro was manipulated, how he was taken advantage of, how Shido was just another rotten adult, the most rotten they’d seen by miles.

Sometimes Goro provokes him simply because hearing it makes him feel better. Makes him feel like if Ren thinks that Goro didn’t deserve anything that happened to him then it must be true. If Ren hates Shido he must have earned it. His own twisted take on an affirmation.

Somewhere during his internal monologue, someone knocks on the door. “Oh, finally,” Ren says, sliding his legs from under Goro and opening their door. He mumbles a thank you as he accepts the food, and it’s charming, how insecure he really is about his English skills.

“Cute,” he says as the door closes. It’s useless, trying to keep the feeling in when he’s in this state and besides, Ren had already said it once tonight. It’s only fair.

What’s not fair is how hard Ren blushes.

It’s just the booze, Goro. Just the blasted shots.

It’s all on a single tray, the food: the burgers, fries and sundae. A bottle of champagne and two glasses on the side. “I only got one plate of fries,” he says, placing it down on the bed.

Goro sits up, sitting on the opposite side to Ren, “That’s okay.”

“I can always order more, or-” he starts, freezing when Goro just takes a fistful of the chips in his hand and brings it to his mouth. “We can just share, I guess.”

He makes himself swallow, not wanting to talk around the food in his mouth, “Sorry.”

“It’s not even- don’t worry,” he’s laughing. It’s infectious, it must be, because Goro’s laughing too.

It feels like a weird dream, he and Ren bathed in the ugly yellow light of the hotel while neon flashes outside. The way Ren touches the side of his mouth with his thumb to wipe away sauce that’s smeared there, the way he smiles at him afterwards. There’s something almost weepy in it, like Ren feels the same way. He, too, is cursed with the knowledge that soon they’ll have to wake up, unsure whether any of it was real or not.

They’re hungry, so they don’t waste time when the burgers and fries are polished off, immediately picking up spoons and fighting over the large piece of chocolate decorating the top of their sundae (Goro wins). It’s nice, it feels like the type of thing normal people do; people who didn’t try to destroy and save the world in equal measures, who didn’t try to kill each other.

For a moment, they can just pretend.

And then, of course, they’re drunk off champagne, fizzy and bubbling in their stomachs as it floats up to their heads. Both lying next to each other on Ren’s bed, having kicked the tray to the floor, giggling at nothing and hoping Ryuji isn’t on his way back yet.

“We should do something stupid,” Ren suggests.

“Like what?”

“Like… I dunno. We’re in Vegas. I just wanna do something completely stupid.”

And Goro had promised himself that he’d say something after the room service.

“Do you wanna get married?” Goro slurs before he can stop to really think about what he’s saying, “‘I’m just kidding. Unless you wanted to. In which case... I suppose I’m not.”

“To you?”

Goro rolls onto his back, giggling, “Obviously.”

Ren smiles for a good few seconds, just watching Goro drunkenly laugh in his bed, “Yeah. I do.”

“Really?” Goro stops laughing to stare back, his grin lingering.

“‘Course. What else are we supposed to do in Vegas? It’s not like it’s gonna matter when we get back home.”

“Oh.”

“I mean. Strictly legally. Personally, _ emotionally _, it would be an honour to marry you, Akechi Goro.”

He narrows his eyes, “Are you messing with me?”

“You’re the one who asked. Are you messing with me?”

“No,” Goro shakes his head, smiling at him and gently taking his hand.

“Okay,” Ren picks up his phone with his free hand, sitting up on the pillows as he does. “Should I text everyone? Feels like a thing we should tell people about.”

It’s selfish, maybe, but he wants this to be _ theirs _. Even if it’s a stupid inside joke, even if nothing comes out of it but a marriage certificate that’s all but redundant back home. He doesn’t want anyone else there but Ren. “No.”

“But I always wanted Ryuji to be my best man.”

“You can save that for our real wedding,” and, fuck, he clasps a hand over his mouth as Ren starts to giggle.

“_ Real _ wedding? At least take me out on a date first.”

He can’t help but laugh along with him, engaging with the teasing, no matter how stupid he is. “Wasn’t that what all those times in Leblanc were?”

Smile widening, Ren stops scrolling his phone to look down at Goro, “I thought you never noticed.”

“Noticed what?” he asks, brow furrowing.

“How bad I was crushing on you.”

He whispers it like a secret but it still knocks all the wind out of Goro’s lungs like he screamed it, chasing away all the butterflies and leaving him with nothing but a tight, choking feeling. “You were?” it feels stupid, now, to question it. Ren’s said it, and Ren doesn’t lie, would never play with his feelings like that.

“Yeah. Still am. Li’l bit,” he puts his index finger and thumb forward, leaving a gap between them for emphasis. “Aren’t you? You did just propose to me, after all.”

“I thought you’d think I was joking.”

“Oh,” all the blood drains from Ren’s face, “right.”

“No, I- fuck- I mean, _ yeah _. Kind of. Sort of. Um, are we-”

“Stupid? Very.”

Goro snorts, letting go of Ren’s hand to hit him on the shoulder, “_ No… _ maybe. Oh, we are, aren’t we?”

“Ugh,” he shakes his head as he collapses back down properly onto the mattress, “_ so _ stupid.”

There’s a moment they just spend looking at one another, silently asking if this is really happening right now. Has it really been sitting in front of them this whole time, waiting? Could it really be this easy?

Neither of them have lived particularly easy lives. Maybe they deserve to make their own easiness with each other.

He giggles, “So.”

“Sooo,” Ren smiles at him, coming to invade Goro’s personal space.

“Where do we go from here?”

“Hmm,” he pretends to deliberate it, squinting at the wall behind him and scrunching his lips, “to the chapel, I think.”

“Wait,” Goro says, before Ren can start to get up.

Ren barely gets out the first syllable of his sentence before Goro silences him with a kiss.

He can feel Ren gasp into it, before he’s kissing back, hands at either side of his face. It tastes like years of buildup and a few betrayals and coffee and curry and _ home _. Like he can’t believe he’s denied himself this for so long. He can feel himself getting more drunk by the second, bubbles fizzing and popping in his brain as he traces Ren’s lips with his tongue.

It feels good and right and familiar, as if they’ve done this dance for centuries, as if they’ll do it again for centuries more. Goro thinks he wouldn’t mind, if he had to find Ren over and over or suffer without him for decades, just as long as this was waiting for him at the end of it all.

Ren pulls him close and it feels like the simple, lonesome violin of Goro’s life has finally found its orchestra. They’re creating a symphony together, and it sounds like belonging.

_ Belonging _. He belongs here, in Ren’s arms.

When they part, he sees something in Ren’s eyes that he’s never seen before in anyone. He thinks maybe if he had a mirror he could find it in his own.

They just smile at each other for a while. It’s… Goro doesn’t think there’s a word for it. Somewhere between hopeful and intimate and fresh.

Then Ren finally speaks, “So. You wanna take my name or am I taking yours?”

* * *

They find the nearest 24-hour chapel on Google Maps and it’s close enough that they can just walk there. It’s colder now, since it’s the middle of the night, and Goro’s still in his _ I heart Las Vegas _ shirt. Ren won’t let him change, which is fair, that was the bet after all, but he does give him his coat. Ren’s next to him in just a hoodie, clearly cold.

“You can have your coat back, if you want.”

Ren shakes his head, “Nah, we’re almost there. ‘Sides, the cold’s sobering me up a little.”

“It better not be. I don’t want you getting cold feet on me,” he smiles, bumping into him playfully as they walk.

“Could never,” he leans over to kiss Goro’s cheek. “There’s been so many times I’ve wanted to do that. Now I can.”

Goro grins, pushing him away as he starts to kiss all over his face, “Stop, you’re being embarrassing.”

“You’re the one wearing an ugly tourist shirt.”

“Nobody can see it right now.”

“Yeah, but _ I _ know,” he winks, sending a scarlet blush to Goro’s cheeks. He tries to hide in the collar of the coat, but Ren knows him too well, and pulls him under his arm. “Here,” he says, adjusting so that he’s holding Goro from behind, “be my shield from the wind.”

“Charming.”

“You have my coat, it’s only fair.”

“Not fair,” he frowns, taking Ren’s phone from his hands so he can navigate. “I think we go left here.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” he yells, jumping onto Goro’s back, barely faltering even as Goro wobbles. “Onwards!”

And Goro finds himself laughing so much that he doesn’t want to throw him off, just grabs him behind the knees and runs down the road they need to take. It feels like all he ever wanted and more, it’s fun, it’s stupid, like they’re teenagers who got to actually _ be _ teenagers for once. Just two kids running down the street, no burdens, no Wildcards, no gods. Not puppets, just people. Just _ living _.

It’s almost sad when they finally reach the chapel and Ren jumps off of him. He already misses the shared warmth, the closeness, of it. So maybe he’s a little touch-starved, sue him. He takes Ren’s hand before his brain can stop himself, pulling him towards the kitschy neon signs and pointed roof.

“Wait,” Ren says, pulling back on his hand to slow them down, “are we really doing this?”

“Oh, you really _ are _ getting cold feet.”

“No, no, I’m not. Just- well, me doing this is very on brand, but,” he shakes his head at him, breathing a laugh and smiling, “why are _ you _doing this?”

Goro stares at him, wondering why he still doesn’t get it. He wraps his arms behind his neck and pulls him in for a kiss, just a quick meeting of their lips. “‘Cause I want to. I want to get married to you.”

“In secret? In another country?”

“Anywhere. As long as I’m with you.”

Ren kisses him then, putting both of his cold hands on Goro’s jaw like he’s holding something precious. It’s a longer kiss, this time, with Goro curling his fingers around Ren’s hair, with their tongues trying to memorise the other’s mouth, with chests pressed together to protect each other from the biting wind. When they part for breath, Goro laughs, “That was cheesy, wasn’t it?”

Ren pecks him once more, “Very cheesy.”

“I mean it, though.”

“I know. I feel the same.”

“Then,” he starts, playfully slapping Ren on the shoulder, “stop stalling us.” Ren picks up where he made Goro leave off, dragging them into the chapel.

There’s nobody but the night shift staff in the building at this hour, so they just walk in, sign a few documents and then they’re at the altar.

Standing under an archway covered in pink, plastic roses, Goro looks into Ren’s eyes and they giggle at each other. The officiant is a man who, though not currently acting as an Elvis impersonator, looks ready to go at a moment’s notice, wig and all. Pews line the ugly, beige carpet, white paint flaking, but there’s nobody sitting in them but bored staff members so that they have a few witnesses.

“You ready?” he asks.

Ren just nods.

It’s ten minutes of translating in a whisper, holding his lover’s hands and smiling. Of exchanging vows in front of strangers, of trying to decide whether to laugh or cry. It’s so funny, but it’s not. It’s everything and nothing all at once.

It’s gentle touching of hands as they exchange metal rings they bought a few minutes prior at the counter.

It’s kissing Ren like nobody should ever kiss anyone in public when they’re finally pronounced as wed.

It’s marrying his soulmate after a forty five minute engagement.

“Husband,” he says into Ren’s mouth, solely because he can.

He feels the laughter Ren gives him as a reply. It’s so intimate and perfect, even if they’re standing in Sin City, in a chapel with yellowing walls, and drunk off something stronger than alcohol.

He never wants them to part, wants to suffocate in his love that he can finally, _ finally _, give to him freely. To have forever and ever and ever with him. Goro nudges his fingers over the plain band across Ren’s left ring finger, a cold and vibrant feeling, a perfect reminder of what he has now.

They’re still holding hands as they stumble outside, “We actually did it.”

“You surprised?” Ren asks, pulling Goro into his arms while they stand on the stoop.

“A little.”

“You’re the one who proposed, _ husband _.”

Goro’s mouth goes a little dry hearing him say that, “Still.”

Ren pouts, “We can get an annulment if you want, it’s not been consummated yet.”

“_ Yet _,” he mocks, laughing, “That’s not proper grounds here anyway.”

“Oh, talk legal to me, baby,” he grins, trying to kiss Goro who just giggles and hides. Goro pushes him away.

“Get off. It’s not funny.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Cause I’m drunk,” he snorts, twisting the ring around his finger absent-mindedly.

Ren turns serious for a moment, searching his eyes for something, “You didn’t just marry me because you’re drunk, right? I’m gonna be pissed if you wake up tomorrow and don’t remember any of this.”

“I’m not _ that _ drunk,” he says, kissing Ren on the nose. “What do we do now?”

“Honeymoon, I guess.”

“Where would you like to go?” he asks, pulling Ren off the stoop and into the street so that they can slowly walk back.

“Somewhere warm,” he says, punctuating it with a shiver.

“It’s January.”

“So? We can go to Australia.”

“You’re afraid of spiders.”

“They’re scary, can you blame me?”

“Yes,” Goro says, “don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Part of the Akechi Goro husband package.”

“Amamiya Goro,” Ren corrects.

Goro beams at him, stopping in the middle of the road just to live in the feeling it gives him a moment longer. “Yes,” he breathes. “I love you,” because he might as well say it before the moment’s over, before the night’s gone and passed them by.

“I love you too,” and Ren kisses him, deep and exquisite, under the starlight.

Maybe Ren had won tonight’s actual jackpot, maybe he’d seen the rare, spinning triple sevens flash under his touch, maybe Ren had won their stupid bet.

Somehow, with his tacky t-shirt and stolen last name, Goro feels like the luckiest sucker in all of Nevada tonight.


	2. the morning after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could not stop writing this i'm sorry

The next morning (or 12:36pm if you want to be specific), they’re standing just outside the hotel dining area, watching their friends have brunch together at a circular table. “So, how do we play this?” Goro asks, hand on his chin, a leftover habit from his Detective Prince days that he never seemed to be able to kick, “If we go in together, it’ll be immediately obvious.”

Ren smiles at him, letting go of his hand, “You should go in first, since Ryuji already knows I didn’t come back last night.”

“Okay,” he presses a kiss to Ren’s lips, “love you.”

He hears Ren say it back as he enters the dining hall, unable to hide the damned skip in his step as he takes one of the only two remaining empty seats. “Good morning, everyone.”

“Goro!” Ann throws her arms around him, “We missed you last night, where’d you go?”

Makoto looks at him from across the table, “You’re awfully late. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Akechi, where’ve you been?” Ryuji says, mouth full of food.

“Apologies. I’m afraid I stayed out rather late last night. Ren was showing me how good he is at slots.”

“Oooh, did he win?” Ann asks, taking a sip of her tea.

“The jackpot, actually.”

“Whoa,” Futaba grins, “and I didn’t even rig it this time.”

“It was quite impressive.”

“So where is he? Ryuji says he never came back last night,” Ann asks as he sets her chin on her hand.

Goro shrugs, “I’m afraid I’m not sure. I believe he went home with someone last night,” which, well,  _ technically _ isn’t a lie.

“He  _ what _ ?” Futaba asks, mouth open wide to let her cereal fall back into the bowl. 

Goro cringes at her, “Very appetizing, Futaba.”

“Fuck off, Crow,” she threatens him with her spoon, eyes narrow.

Frowning, Ryuji sighs, “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He thinks you’re homophobic,” Futaba says as she pats him on the back.

“For real?”

“No,” Goro cuts in, before the situation can get any worse.

Ryuji chews loudly, still frowning, and glances at his phone, “I should message him again.”

“No need,” Ren says appearing from nowhere and taking the chair beside Goro. God, Goro hopes nobody notices the dreamy look on his face. “What’s on the menu?”

“Dude! I’ve been worried about you!” Ryuji yells across the table.

“Sorry. I've been busy.”

“We know,” Ann says, rolling her eyes. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” he smirks, taking the jug of juice from the middle of the table and pouring himself a glass. Goro just takes the menu to his face, pretending to read through it so nobody sees his grin. “You want some?” he asks, looking to Goro.

“Please,” Goro nods, holding out his mug.

“Hey, Ren,” Futaba says, waving to get his attention, “how much did you win? Ya know, you still owe me 5,000 yen.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Ren sticks out his tongue, “I won 5,000 dollars.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Futaba breathes, “I think it might actually be more money you owe me. Since I charge interest an’ all.”

As they bicker, Makoto turns to Goro, somehow already looking at him like she has them figured out, “Hey, Goro. Why are you wearing Ren’s jacket?”

He makes himself look down, like he hadn’t even noticed. “Oh, he loaned it to me. It was cold last night.”

“But you’re still wearing it?”

“I think you just didn’t want anyone to know you lost our bet,” Ren says, ignoring how Futaba calls for his attention.

“A bet?” Haru asks.

“I bet Goro that I’d win at slots. And I did.”

“And what does this have to do with your jacket?” Makoto’s brows knit together.

Ren places his chin on Goro’s shoulder, “Why don’t you show everyone?”

Goro gives him an angry look, narrowed eyes and a scowl, but he sighs and unzips the jacket. “I have to wear this t-shirt for the rest of the week,” he explains as everyone gawks at his  _ I heart Las Vegas  _ shirt.

Ren hides his laughter behind his right hand. “Dude,” Ryuji shakes his head at Ren, before they both break out into belly laughs. Which just figures, really, they’ve always had the exact same sense of humour.

Their laughter turns infectious, with Futaba and Ann joining in next, then the rest, leaving Goro frowning at his empty plate. “It’s not that funny,” he protests, trying to zip it back up as quickly as he can.

“Wait!” Ann shouts, silencing the table and grabbing Goro’s left hand, “Is that a  _ wedding ring _ ?”

Goro tries to wrestle his hand back, but Ann’s grip is like a vice, “Give me back my hand.”

“Yeah, give him back his hand, Ann,” Ren laughs, using his own left hand to try and pull Goro’s hand.

“You! You guys!” Ann practically jumps in her seat, taking Ren’s hand too and inspecting them both together. “Did you-?”

“Oh my goodness,” Haru says, eyes shining.

He hears Ryuji whisper, “I don’t get it,” to Futaba, who just sighs back at him. 

Ren pecks Goro’s cheek, “Goro proposed to me last night.”

“That’s absolutely  _ not _ what happened,” Goro laughs as he blushes. “You said you wanted to do something reckless and I suggested getting married.”

“And I can’t think of a better proposal,” he smiles, kissing him soft and gentle.

“You guys got  _ married _ ?!” Ryuji yells, eyes bugging out of his skull.

“God, Ryuji, keep up,” Ann waves him off. “Congrats, you guys!”

Yusuke tilts his head, “I wasn’t aware you two were dating.”

“We weren’t,” Ren says, like it makes sense that they’d just get married out of nowhere, “don’t need to. I know he’s my soulmate.”

The word halts Goro’s breath, making his eyes go glassy and  _ no _ , he’s not going to cry in front of everybody.

“What a beautiful sentiment. Inspiring,” Yusuke mutters, pulling his sketchbook from his bag.

Goro takes Ren’s hand in his, pulling him close to embrace him and whisper in his ear, “I love you, you idiot.”

He can hear Ann cooing behind them, can see Haru resting her head on Makoto’s shoulder and muttering something. Yusuke’s drawing them and Ryuji and Futaba just have dumb smiles on their faces. It’s… nothing like he expected. He’s  _ not  _ going to cry.

Something dawns on Ryuji’s face, “Wait, is  _ this  _ why you didn’t come back to the room last night?”

Ren laughs, shuffling his chair closer to Goro so he can lean on him, “It was my wedding night, man.”

“Technically, our wedding night is tonight too; it’s still the day of,” Goro smiles down at him.

“We’ll just have to celebrate again,” Ren snorts, pecking Goro’s jaw.

“Ren!” Futaba frowns, “Stop flirting with Akechi at the breakfast table. You’re making him get a dopey look on his dumb face. It’s gross.”

Ren scowls at her, “Don’t be mean to my husband, Taba. He’s your in-law now.”

“ _ And _ , my name isn’t Akechi anymore. I’m Amamiya Goro.”

“Ugh. I hate that, too strange. I’m just gonna start calling you Goro,” she says, like he doesn’t even get a say in the matter.

Goro just chuckles, “I suppose, if it helps. The same goes for everyone here.”

“‘Bout time, bro,” Ryuji smiles at him. He feels Ren squeeze at his waist, like he’s proud of him.

He was expecting more… aggression. He’d been staring at Ren as he slept half the night while he planned on explaining himself, organised a speech to beg the Thieves for Ren’s hand in marriage. There’s no resistance at all, just a joyful atmosphere, congratulations being thrown at them. It’s a lot, but he won’t let the tears fall from his eyes.

He  _ won’t _ , he thinks, as he gets himself a piece of toast from the middle of the table to pick at it.

“Goro?” Ann whispers to him, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he forces a watery smile, staring at the growing pile of toast crumbs on his plate.

Ann pulls her lips to the side, twirling a pigtail around her fingers, “Sorry, I know we sometimes come off a bit strong. It’s just how we care.”

Blinking furiously, Goro shakes his head, “It’s fine.”

_ How they care _ ? Why would they waste energy caring about him? Be happy for Ren, care about Ren, yes, but him?

And Ren, beautiful, amazing Ren, his  _ husband  _ Ren, like he can read his mind, leans in and whispers, “ _ Our _ friends,” before kissing him quick.

Goro looks around the table of people discussing his marriage, his pining. Haru fawning over Ren’s basic, cheap wedding ring. Futaba squinting at Yusuke’s artwork as he drags his pencil across the page. Ann and Ryuji seconds away from a brawl about who owes who money for some sort of bet they’d had since high school. Makoto on the phone to Sae, who, wow, Goro hadn’t even thought to tell.

_ His  _ friends. His  _ friends _ .

He still feels like there’s something he hasn’t earned sitting with him at the table, feels like he should be somewhere else and not here, like he’s gazing in on something private that he wasn’t invited to.

Ren holds his hand under the table, squeezes, as Goro coughs and tries to inconspicuously wipe at his eyes.

Maybe he can learn to forgive himself. The way that everyone here has forgiven him. For Ren’s sake. For his own.

He’ll try.


End file.
